The Innocents
by Pheasant Plucker
Summary: He looked like a sleeping child, except without the breathing. He had no friends, so who would kill him? A bizarre crime scene invokes many strange theories, but none so strange as the truth. Episode style case fic with a healthy dose of Tiva, McAbby, angry Gibbs and giggles.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay team, epic casefic! Find the killer in this bizarre homocide. Prank? Suicide? Fetish killer? Cult? Grab your gear!**

* * *

As the sun rose over the playground, he lay comfortably in the sandbox, wearing baby blue flannelette pajamas, which were too small. He was hugging a beige teddy bear with brown patches and button eyes. He had a pale ginger crew cut. He was eighteen year old marine private Michael Jacobs. He was dead.

* * *

The team arrived and spread out quickly, there were hundreds of little items to bag and tag, candy wrappers, shoe laces, cans... A children's playground is not a convenient crime scene. A children's playground on a naval base is slightly better, but not by much. DiNozzo took several highly unprofessional shots of the unfortunate probie picking up tiny sticky things, Ziva commented on his childishness and the MEs were late. You know the drill.

"Well, we all know what happened here!"

"Then do enlighten us, Tony" said Ziva with a patience that was present, but unlikely to stay long.

"It's classic a prank, I did this plenty of times!"

"You did this?" Ziva looked over at the body.

"Okay, we didn't tend to actually kill anyone" he received a stern look "at all. But it's a classic set up! You get the probie drunk, dress him in something humiliating, leave him somewhere suitably public and preferably embarrassing, then wait for the laughter."

"What is the point?"

"You know, fun... And being an ass to the probie."

"So why is he dead?" asked Ziva

"I don't know, we didn't do that bit. Either something went wrong or kids are getting really nasty these days."

Everyone knew that although she denied it, Ziva had a basic understanding of fun, but she also got most of hers from tormenting DiNozzo. No one objected.

* * *

"Abby, I already went through these once, I'm not doing it again!"

"Gibbs told you to help me!"

"And I will, with anything but that."

McGee eventually lost. He argued mostly for entertainment value. Abby argued purely for entertainment value, and she did it better. He was actually more than happy to be there, anything is better than talking to family. That job went to Tony and Ziva.

* * *

"A child lives here, I'm going to find it."

"Ziva, she'll be back any second, she just found out her son died, you're not snooping around her house!"

They sat whispering on the couch while they waited for Mrs. Jacobs to make tea. It was a private DiNozzo rule. Always let the victim's next of kin make you tea. If they're involved, they already have their story memorized and won't improve it in the time it takes to make tea. If not, they deserve a minute and a small distraction. But never let them make coffee, they don't need coffee.

When she came back, she had solved their problem, following behind her was a blonde girl of about seven. She looked mildly dazed, and not at all like she'd been crying.

"This is my daughter, Tammy" said Mrs Jacobs, as she sat down.

Tammy sat in the couch beside her mother and listened quietly.

They asked all the usual questions, and slowly got a picture of... Mild indifference. Tracy Jacobs was clearly upset, but only a few hours after hearing the news of her son's death, she had already moved on enough to be planning ahead, to realize that life does go on. Then there was the bear.

"When they told me about it... They asked if he owned the things they found. The pajamas... The bear..." She was clearly fighting back tears "and I told them yes, the bear they described was his, he had it when he was a kid, he called it Alfred. But Tammy told me she has it, and I checked, she does. It's here. We still have it here. He must have bought one the same, I guess."

Other than that, everything seemed fairly routine. Mike and Tammy were from two different fathers, Mike's was a teenage boyfriend who didn't stay long, Tammy's was a long and apparently fairly happy marriage, which ended in divorce two years ago.

The two agents walked down the path out of the garden. As usual, Tony gave his opinions.

"That'd explain the prank. The guy who buys a copy of his teddy bear an hugs it in bed at recruit course is asking for... Something"

"So what did we get from that? Other than the creepy teddy story" asked Ziva

"Nice kid, good grades, no friends... How often do you hear that from a grieving mother? It's a change from _oh he was the most perfect, loving boy, all he wanted to do was whatever he's doing now, everybody loved him, no one would want to hurt him _routine. He was the red headed step child." he said, hoping he wouldn't have to explain the reference.

"So you think she's involved in her son's death?"_  
_  
"I don't know, normally they go the other way and do the lost-the-light-of-my-life thing"

* * *

Jimmy and Ducky found the most interesting thing. A piece of paper in the victim's wallet, which was in the breast pocket. Not a nice, simple suicide note, the name of a killer, written in blood, or a corner of a diary entry, giving an ambiguous address (because sadly Tintin really is just a cartoon). It said

_I deserve justice_

It would have made sense if it had been in the shaky hand of a dying man, if it was shoved roughly into the pocket, but it wasn't. It was written very slowly and neatly, in brown ink, and it was carefully placed to be seen, in the ID window. As far as the MEs were concerned, this was looking more and more like a suicide. A melodramatic one.

* * *

"Whatchya got Abs?"

"Well, the pjs are new, like really new, like straight out of the box new. I know pjs don't come in boxes, but if they did, these ones would be straight out of one. Never been washed, never been worn, maybe even put on him after he died. An they're clean, really clean, like not a hair, other than the victim's. If he put up a fight, he didn't do it in these." She took a breath, just quickly. "An the creepy cute teddy bear, that's pretty clean too, not perfect, but teddy bears don't come in boxes, so it probably just got dirty in the store. And I found _which_ store! It's sold in Walmart, current season toys. But get this! The cute button eyes… It doesn't have those! Someone pulled off the eyes and sewed on buttons! He must've really wanted his teddy bear back!"


	2. Chapter 2

As the scary one and the mildly tactful one, Ziva and Tony went to talk to the victim's direct superior, and since he was still in recruit course, that was the rookies' puppy minder. After the short but informative encounter, Ziva was openly unimpressed.

"He was not a nice person."

"He's a puppy minder, what did you expect?"

"I don't know, but it wasn't that."

"Okay, so..." Tony went into lecturing-on-American-ways mode "You know the guys who climb to the top and love to yell at people?"

"Gibbs?"

"Well... Yeah, actually. Well these are the guys who climb to the bottom, but still really wanna yell at people, so they scream at kids and don't say much and feel better, but not enough so to stop them being assholes."

"I feel that this is a gross generalization"

"Oh, it is."

"So what did we learn? He was a loner, he didn't do very well, he liked reading, he went to church and his supervisor clearly didn't like him."

"Yeah, and he said 'there's always one, in every course', like one loser... Sounds like he always finds a kid to pick on. And once you start picking on a kid, the other kids pile on. But hazing doesn't usually include... You know, death."

"So we should talk to them, the other recruits"

"Yep"

* * *

"Gibbs! You always know!"

"Whatcha got?"

"Cause of death! Flunitrazepam!" she grinned as if that meant something. "Only 142 micrograms per litre of blood, so not a lot..."

"In English?"

"Roofies, good old fashioned roofies! That much could kill you, it did in for this guy, but a lot of people could just sleep that off, if anyone other than our victim was involved, I don't think they did this on purpose, either that or they had no idea what they were doing, and I don't think that's it, 'cause everything's clean, like really clean, there's nothing here, and Ducky says his body's clean too, on the outside, and the note! Prints all over it, all his, he wrote it, I got a sample of his writing, it's neater, but it's definitely his. This is looking a whole lot like a crazy suicide, like someone's meant to get what he's trying to say... But it's certainly not me! Oh, and his last meal... Tea and biscuits. If you're gonna take a guy out, spike his drink, dress him up stupid and tie him to something or whatever, you don't usually go out for tea and biscuits, at least, I don't, not that I dress people up and tie them to stuff, well, not like, in that way..."

"That's good work Abs"

"Thanks!"

Abby spun around and got back to work.

* * *

"So you knew him pretty well?" Tony and Ziva were playing bad cop/bad cop, or possibly bad cop/scary quiet hot cop.

"No, um, not really, I wasn't his friend, I mean, I wasn't _not _his friend, I just didn't know him that well" the recruit was seventeen, nerdy and in over his head.

"You shared a room with him, didn't talk?"

"Well, um, he was quiet, and I'm quiet and... My friends didn't really like him and... We just didn't really talk"

"How did your friends show their dislike for him?" Ziva spoke for the first time.

"I don't know, they just weren't nice to him... And the boss always made him clean the loos..."

They strolled out with very little new information.

"Cleaning the toilets to murder, not the usual bullying progression, I think they missed a few steps."

* * *

Luckily McGee had a little more, having tracked the private's movements over the 48 hours leading up to his death, he'd found that Jacobs had visited base medical the day before his death. He almost wished there was someone to high five, but he settled for calling the pair at the base.

* * *

Questioning a few folks at the base seemed like an easy assignment, but it was turning into a long day. Luckily the doctor who had seen Private Jacobs was on duty and wasn't overly busy. They didn't tell him anything, just flashed badges and said they were looking for Jacobs.

"He came to me complaining that he couldn't sleep, and he looked it. It looked like stress induced insomnia, so I prescribed him some sleeping pills and asked him to come back before the end of course. I don't want him to stay on them, he needs long term management if it didn't pass with the stress."

"We will need a list of everything you prescribed" said Ziva firmly.

"No problem, sorry I couldn't be any more help."

"Oh, you've helped plenty"

* * *

They walked out of the building side by side

"Suicide?"

"Suicide."

* * *

**What? A crime with no crime, no dodgy wife, no UST filled stakeouts and no annoying FBI involvement? Not likely! To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

Tony lay on something really soft enjoying the tongue of... Wow, yeah, we all know who. He wasn't quite sure how they got to that point and he really, really didn't care.

When the phone range he woke very reluctantly.

"DiNozzo?" He murmured

"Nother body, get in here!"

The boss was all about subtlety.

5:32am. Could be worse.

* * *

The body was on the same navel base, in a really pleasant little park. Things really could be worse. It was actually quite a nice crime scene, in a creepy sort of way. It was clean, warm, out of the way and very... Wind In The Willows. Anyone else would have said Enid Blyton, or maybe Beatrix Potter, but Tony didn't, because they didn't make a movie about them, at least not one he'd see. (A/N: He so saw the Terry Jones version, seriously, the Mighty Morphin' Flower Arrangers, he so did)

There was a red and white checked picnic blanket laid out under a tree, on it was a classic double lidded picnic basket and a girl in a white dress. Obviously she was dead, otherwise Tony would still be in bed. She had two long mousy brown braids tied with sky blue ribbons. She looked like Alice, just fallen asleep on her picnic blanket before the white rabbit came past, except that in her right hand she held a few white roses, almost certainly cut from the rose garden in the park where she lay.

The MPs on duty had already identified her as marine private Cathy Maree Stewart, from the same recruit course as Jacobs.

Processing the scene brought up a few things of interest, in the victim's pocket was a folded note, on nice paper, in brown ink, it said

I deserve better

The young woman was also wearing frilly white underwear, the significance of which seemed lost on everyone else (including me, but not Tony, never Tony). Jimmy commented on them and was stared down, Tony commented and was head slapped, by Ziva, who was in turn head slapped by Gibbs for stealing his line. Comfortable familiarity reigned.

* * *

"Ziva! With me! Tony, you two go back, you find... Everything. McGee, help Abby, then find any computery stuff Tony missed, go.

The boss had decided that this round of interviews required less tact and more bad cop, although doing it himself would clearly be overkill.

Her CO was first, oh joy.

"Bad news"

"How so?" asked Gibbs in a perfectly calm tone that somehow promised significantly less calm tones in the near future.

"Shared herself around, thought she could climb the ladder the other way"

"And you are sure about this?" asked Ziva softly

"Yeah"

"Good" she latched on like a terrier "we would like a list of the people she has slept with while she has been here" a slightly smug tone snuck in toward the end.

After a fairly heated discussion in which Ziva implied the man was a liar, and he implied that she was a slut, they got their list, which consisted of one recruit, who "might know something".

Walking out, Ziva feared for the back of her head, and felt the need to explain.

"I have been accused of that many times, never with any evidence. The military is not always kind to females. Until you learn to remove testicles with your teeth, that is, then it is very kind."

"I know"

* * *

The victim's father was next on the list, never a happy task. He was in a nursing home, with early onset altzimers and a serious anxiety disorder. He was surprisingly easy to talk to.

"So you have not seen very much of her lately?"

"Oh, she'd visit, she was a good girl"

"Was she depressed at all?" Ziva was doing the talking, somehow she'd become the subtle one, by comparison.

"Yeah, bit. She was never really cheerful, quiet kid, studied"

"Did she have any special attachment to white roses?"

"Yeah, her favourite. She said she'd have 'em when she got married. She didn't really talk to me that much though. There might've been a reason for the flowers, I don't know, she used to talk to her mom, not me."

"Did she have any friends we could talk to?"

"Not really, she was like me, bit of a loner, don't like people. But when she was upset she used to go to the church, just sit there, not talk to anyone. She might've done that, maybe she finally talked to someone, you could look there."

"Thank you Mr Stewart, you have been very helpful"

* * *

They went back to the base to visit the church and the base hospital, just in case.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Help! Cross cultural writing issue! I've just been informed that you don't have biscuits in North America! I'm British, living in Australia, and everywhere I've been (not a lot of places, I'm happy to admit) cookies = soft, roundish, chunky, flat, generally home made, very sweet, severed with milk, generally to children. Whereas biscuits = small, flat, geometric shape, far more formal, patterned, often factory made, served with tea or coffee. Are those called cookies in the USA? Here, if you served (what we call) cookies in the officers' mess you'd get some odd looks!**

**P.S. I am aware that tea, old fashioned tea, hot, with milk and sugar, is not common in the US, that's okay, I intended that bit!**

* * *

The hospital gave them nothing, they'd never heard of her. The chapel was better, at least she'd been there, the vague chaplain had a vague memory of her.

"It was a few weeks ago, I didn't really speak with her, she said she simply wished to sit in the chapel and of course I let her, I believe my wife may have spoken with her"

Right on cue a large, tall woman with a slouch walked in. Every part of her appearance from her gray hair to her neutral clothes, seemed to be geared toward making herself appear smaller and more inoffensive. She poured tea for everyone and sat down beside her husband. She waited to be spoken to.

"Do you remember private Stewart? She was a tall young woman with brown hair, we are told she was unlikely to talk to anyone"

"Oh certainly, I remember Cathy, nice girl, very nice girl. She said... She said she'd been having some trouble. I ah... Well, she did tell me in confidence. Could I perhaps speak with the lady alone?"

"We'll go" said Gibbs, getting up quickly. He walked with the chaplain around the garden, try to find any more little bits of information, he didn't have much luck and was hoping to get more from Ziva, which he did, as she informed him on the way back to the truck.

"The girl was raped, a few weeks ago, she could not say exactly when, and she does not know who, but she knew that it was a superior officer, and that she was scared to report it. She said that she thinks suicide is a possibility, she was very depressed when she came to the chapel. She also said that bullying is a big problem with the recruits here, it has been ongoing, she has spoken to a lot of people about it."

* * *

"Timmy! Are you gonna stay and help me with those?"

"Yep" he said, placing the evidence down in the table.

"Thank you!" she said, taking the opportunity for a self serving but welcomed hug.

An hour later they'd done all the basics, the blanket was clean and brand new, as was the dress, as were the underpants which Tim couldn't resist imagining on Abby... It didn't work, you can imagine it, it doesn't work. The note was exactly like the last, a neater version on the victim's own hand writing, with no other finger prints. It was taken from a nice memo pad.

The basket was old, but had recently been cleaned, and its contents were fairly meagre. Some cookies in a paper bag, several different kinds. They were normal, not poisoned or anything, so they weren't helping very much... At first. After following all the more sensible avenues, like finger prints and DNA, both of which were noticeably absent, except for those of the victim, they decided to chase up the source of the cookies, or rather McGee did, while Abby grumbled at her machines.

"These are weird"

"Timmy, they're cookies"

"Yeah, they're cookies from the officers' mess... These ones are Italian, they're served in the officers' mess, nowhere else. The cheaper ones are served in all the other messes, but not the officers' mess, these were taken from at least two different kitchens. Who would bother?"

"Same person who braided her hair and set her up for a dead picnic?" There was a beeping noise, apparently Abby knew what it was, but it sounded pretty generic to me. "Cause of death, roofies!"

"That's good work, you still need McGee?"

"Yes!"

And Gibbs was gone.

"How does he do that?"

"I don't know, we'll work on that if one day we don't have a case"

* * *

"Stomach contents, tea and biscuits"

"Has Abby matched them to the ones upstairs?"

"No, not yet, but it seems we're missing something from the crime scene"

"Cough it up!"

"Well, tea... They were ingested at the same time and I'd wager the tea is our cause of death, our biscuits were at the crime scene, but the tea wasn't. I'd say we're looking for a thermos flask containing tea, sleeping pills and hopefully our murderer's fingerprints"


	5. Chapter 5

After a week, they'd found no evidence of anything other than suicide, no evidence other than having two victims. Abby had a theory.

"Come on Tim, it's obvious! No signs of self defence, a common suicide drug, both in nice places dressed in comfortable clothes, clearly suicides... It's Romeo and Juliet! She couldn't live without him!" Her face took on a sort of dreamy expression as if mutual suicide was perfectly adorable and romantic.

"So why didn't the notes just say that?"

"Damnit, you're right."

She slumped down into her office chair.

"Okay, so... What do our victims have in common?

"Other than being dead on the same base"

"Yes Tim, other than that! You're not helping!"

"You want me to go?"

"No!" she whimpered a little too quickly.

He couldn't help a self satisfied little smile, she really didn't want him to go. Progress.

"Okay, so... They're the same age, same recruit intake, we're sure they never met before?"

"Pretty sure"

"They hung out with the same people..."

"Probably got picked on by the same people"

"Same CO"

"Who's an asshole"

"Timmy! Language! ...I like it when you talk dirty" she poked out her tongue at him. "They were both picked on a lot... Both had no real family, no friends that we can find"

"Easy victims, people no one's gonna fight for."

"Or classic suicide victims... Both dressed in weird clothes"

"Both had objects of some kind of significance with them"

"So we all have is two really similar suicides and an asshole... And we already looked into the asshole." She slumped even further, looking dejected and hoping for a hug.

* * *

"What the hell's he doing here?"

That earned Tony a head slap.

"Helping me, which is more than you're doing!"

Fornell turned back toward the elevator as Gibbs approached, he knew that whatever he was there for, it was unlikely to be official.

"So what do you need?"

"Hey, always straight to business with you?"

"We're standing in a darkened elevator, did you have something else in mind?"

"I got two bodies, we've had a week and we still don't know if we got a serial killer or just a pair of miserable kids"

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"My gut tells me their CO's more than just a bully, I wanna watch him, but I got nothing..."

"Since when did that stop you?"

"You didn't let me finish. I got nothing, and nowhere to base a stakeout. He lives on base in the accommodation blocks, not even married quarters, not the there are any of those free either."

"Okay... One of my surveillance trucks'll go for an extended servicing this week, and you owe me"

"As always"


	6. Chapter 6

I know this is really sort, there will be another one in an hour! Also, why do we need a stakeout? Because I FREAKING LOVE STAKEOUTS! That's why.

* * *

Tony and Ziva sat side by side in the dark surveillance truck (you saw that coming, right?) feeling tense, irritated and above all, bored.

"You started it!"

"I started nothing, I have been sitting here watching, nothing more"

"Well it was your fault" he hit her arm playfully.

She gave him a surprised stare that said "why would you do that? You know I can kill you." under which he got uncomfortable and turned back to the screens, mumbling

"Well it was"

* * *

"Do you think they know they're being watched?" Abby asked gleefully

McGee just raised his eyebrows at her. He wouldn't admit it, but he loved breaking the rules with Abby, they were squashed close to see the dark picture, she was giggling with excitement, it was late and they were very much alone.

As they watched Abby's computer screen, Tony stood behind his partner, bending over now and again to point something out on the screen, getting closer every time. Eventually, probably after a minor argument, Tony leaned down and whispered in Ziva's ear... For quite some time, then straightened up and tried to act like everything was normal.

"This is so stupid, they should just do something already!"

"Abby, they're not on stakeout for your entertainment"

"No, look at them! How long can they hide it? Why do they even try? Seriously, they should just do something about it!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!"

She wasn't expecting it, she should have been, she asked for it, but she wasn't. Either way, she certainly didn't mind.

He pushed her against the bench, cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. He went in for the kill very slowly, and it worked. Abby put both arms around his neck, closed her eyes and melted into the kiss. He remembered, he remembered everything. He kissed her slowly, gently reminding her of all the things she missed, all the things only he knew. Nothing could ruin this moment.

"McGee, back to work! Abby, with me!"

Fuck.


	7. Chapter 7

**I promise I will get back to serious case related details soon!**

* * *

Gibbs' anger disappeared as soon as he hit the button.

"So, what's goin' on there?"

Abby was shocked by the apparent sympathy, and baffled as to why she was in the elevator and Tim was in the lab.

"Um... I don't know..."

"Are you serious or not?"

"I'm not sure, I..."

"Right" he hit the button, Abby got around him and hit it again before the lights even came back on.

"What are you doing?"

"Going down there to slap him and shout rule twelve in his ear a few times"

"No! No Gibbs, please! This is amazing! Please don't wreck this for me!"

"Okay, there's your answer"

She gave him a questioning look.

"You're serious."

"Well, yeah, but I don't know what's gonna happen and I'm scared and... What if it doesn't work?"

"You damn well make it work! Waiting and hanging back and seeing how it's gonna go doesn't work. You either go down there right now and make it work, or I go down and make sure it doesn't."

"And what if he says "screw your rules"?"

"Then it's gonna work"

* * *

"Our suspect is leaving the building"

Tony unwrapped the arms he'd "casually" draped around Ziva's shoulders and jumped into his seat.

"He is on foot, he cannot be going far"

"Ziva, no one has cars on base, he could be going anywhere"

"I'm going to follow"

She got the closest thing to a look of love from Tony, he said

"...You used a contraction"


	8. Chapter 8

Tony sat fidgeting waiting for Ziva. There was a terrifying killer out there, and he wanted her back. He was bored.

He saw the target return, but not Ziva. The truck's back door opened behind him.

"I shadowed him, he went for a walk then came home, that is all"

"Maybe he realized he was being followed"

He got the "I could kill you" look again.

"Or maybe he just went for a walk" death was averted temporarily.

* * *

McGee anxiously awaited either Abby's return, or a slap on the back of the head, either would be better than waiting. Finally the elevator dinged and big boots hit the floor.

"What did he say?"

"Don't screw it up"

Then Abby kissed him in a way that implied that that wasn't a concern.

* * *

"We should talk to people"

"What people? We have talked to the witnesses and all our suspects, who do you want to talk to?" Ziva was feeling impatient, it'd been a long time in a small box with a lot of cologne. Staying bitchy was getting hard.

"Just people. You've never lived on a base like this have you?"

"I have lived on many bases"

"Not like this, this is a small base, full of families. Here you move in, and every one of your neighbors comes over with home baked cookies, it's like the Stepford Wives" he got nothing but raised eyebrows "Edward Scissorhands?" Still nothing "The Cat in the Hat?"

"Ooo, I liked that movie"

"Really?"

"No"

"Okay... Well, anyway, people gossip, everyone knows everything about everyone. We need an excuse to just casually talk to people."

"_We_ can't do that, we've been walking around asking big official questions for a week, we are known"

"Yeah, so's Gibbs... But McGee's not, he's been hiding in the lab"

"Are the Stepford Wives going to talk to McGee?"

"Maybe we'll find a way. Put undercover running the canteen or something"

"Oh wow, then he'll have to make me sandwiches. Let's do that."

"It's not gonna work, chicks talk to chicks, we need a girl in there"

"Abby and McGee?"

"No way, boss'll never buy it. Would you put Probie alone in a house with Abby?"


	9. Chapter 9

"DiNozzo! You got another body there! Memorial park behind the main parade ground, I'll meet you there." The line went dead.

"He did not even let me tell him who he was talking to. We have a new victim on base, he is meeting us at the crime scene."

"He's gonna kill us"

"Indeed"

* * *

The boy was lying under a bushy tree, wearing pale pink lip gloss and a worn plaid school dress. The local MPs had already identified him as sixteen year old Jason Parker, the son of an officer living on base.

"Did I say prank?"

"I believe you did"

"The boss is gonna kill us"

"You said that too"

* * *

"Oh my god, coolest stomach contents ever!" She held up a specimen container filled with bright blue liquid.

"Abs?" Gibbs maintained his look of mildly grumpy bafflement.

"I know what this is" she said smugly

"Haven't taken it out of the jar yet"

"So? He was killed by Rohypnol... Official roofies, from a doctor, not the same ones from before. They dye them blue so you can't spike people's drinks with them."

"That's good... Work?"

* * *

"Why are we doing this? Gibbs is here, and we haven't slept in... I don't know, ages"

"Twenty two hours"

"Right, so why isn't this McGee? Why are we going to talk to a dead teenager's family instead of sleeping?"

"I do not know, let's just do this, then if we are lucky, we can sleep"

The father reminded Tony of McGee's father, and he certainly wasn't happy to have a geeky son. The couple was devoutly religious and mentioned hints of irreligious behavior from their son, but by the looks of them, that could be anything from kissing girls to wanting a tattoo. Mrs. Parker was absolutely distraught, and her husband seemed quite embarrassed by her, eventually asking her to go upstairs. After she left he spoke calmly and quietly, he told them his son had been drifting away for some time, he had been losing touch and that suicide may have been inevitable. Although he didn't say it, he gave the impression that perhaps it was for the best.

The strangest thing for Tony was that Ziva seemed to take that as being quite normal, that a parent could lose his son and just not really mind. He wondered if her family had treated her that way. He felt a strong urge to treat her far better.

* * *

"Abby! Job for you!"

The intercom screen went blank

"Looks like Gibbs is back"

The intercom screen flashed back on again.

"You too, McGee!"

And he was gone again

As they walked out of the elevator he handed them each a file.

"Undercover, go get organised!" he was back to his desk by the time it'd sunk in.

Abby immediately opened her file. Gibbs had hoped she'd wait to get back to the lab, no such luck.

"Gibbs! WHY AM I PREGNANT?"


End file.
